


Hole In One

by RaeDMagdon



Series: Hole In One [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Against the Wall - Freeform, Alpha!Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Blowjobs, Doggy Style, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fingering, Gloryhole, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Clarke, Omegaverse, Oral Sex, Road Head, Shower Sex, lonely fucking, mild bondage, safe sex, shower, surprising feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Clarke and Lexa are both nursing broken hearts. Random chance brings them together... on opposite sides of a wall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my fucking god. N1ghtwr1ter suggested this title, so blame them. Their justification: "it kinda makes sense if you think about it, given that it was both of their first time doing this and yet somehow they wound up with each other".
> 
> The prompt was: "was wondering if you'd one day consider a G!P Lexa and Clarke being heartbroken and self-destructive and one day impulsively deciding to use a glory hole to numb themselves in fleeting pleasure. They're each other's first there (and last) and grow addicted to each other so they keep going at the same day/time to find each other. Dirty talk/praise kink through the wall. Meeting when they leave one day, recognizing voices, inevitably falling head over heels."
> 
> As always, I'm @raedmagdon on tumblr

**First Friday**

*******

The music here is shit.  
  
That’s the first thing Clarke notices when she steps through the door. It’s practically an assault on the ears, the way the poorly-produced bass throbs erratically beneath screeching sirens. _Ugh. Like someone gave a twelve year old kid his first mixer._  
  
One more step into the dimly-lit club, and Clarke sees another bad sign—or, rather, she smells it. The place stinks of pheromones. Absolutely reeks. Alphas posturing, omegas in heat, even betas. The air is so thick with the smell of sweating bodies calling for mates that Clarke almost gags. At the very least, she has to swallow to clear her throat.  
  
She’s about to turn right back around and head out, but a tug at her elbow puts a halt to her retreat. “Come on,” Raven shouts above the music, squeezing Clarke’s arm through the sleeve of her jacket. “Don’t chicken out now. We just got here.”  
  
It takes Clarke a fair amount of lip reading, but she gets the gist of what Raven is saying. She chews the inside of her cheek, considering. On the one hand, it’s been three months since her breakup with Finn. Her heat is only two weeks away, and she’s been getting the itch. It’s like her stupid body knows she doesn’t have someone to mate with, and is urging her to go out and scout some prospects in advance.  
  
On the other hand, this place is disgusting. The definition of seedy. If she’d known this would be the atmosphere, she never would have let Raven drag her here.  
  
She sighs. “Fine,” she mouths back. It won’t hurt to look around, and if it stays this bad, she can leave after her first drink—hopefully, one she pays for herself. She’d rather not accept something from an alpha with an agenda if she can help it.  
  
_Then again, don’t I have the same agenda? Does it even matter?_  
  
Raven bounces on her toes. “Awesome! Come on.” She grabs Clarke’s hand and drags her into the throng of people, carving a path through the crowd. While Raven is surprisingly successful at claiming personal space for a beta, Clarke has a little more trouble. Being pulled along leaves her vulnerable to numerous shoulders and elbows, and she winces as one catches her side.  
  
“Raven, what the fuck?” she shouts, but Raven either doesn’t hear her, or doesn’t want to answer.  
  
After dodging several flailing limbs, Raven finally comes to a stop. Clarke realizes they’re in front of a black curtain, one of two standing right next to each other. Both stretch from ceiling to floor, with a thin wall in between, and each has a short line waiting to pass through. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. The scent of sex wafting out from… whatever is behind there is staggering.  
  
“Raven,” she growls, fixing her friend with her most accusatory look.  
  
Raven rolls her eyes. The music is a little softer here, so Clarke can actually hear her when she says: “You asked me to get you laid, and that’s what I’m doing. Just go past the curtain, and you can have your choice of dick. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”  
  
Clarke scowls. She doesn’t know what she wants. Not to be single? Not to be lonely? Not to be horny? Definitely not to be back with Finn. That ship has definitely sailed. So here she is, in a club that offends every one of her senses and would probably burn her eyes under a blacklight.  
  
_Wow. I guess I really am that pathetic, huh?_  
  
She looks at Raven. “You really think I should?”  
  
Raven nods. “Have some rebound sex. You deserve it. If you like it, you can come here during your heat, too. They’ve got rooms for it.”  
  
Clarke looks at the curtain again. The one they’re standing in front of doesn’t have much of a line—there are only two other omegas waiting, and one goes through as she watches. The line of alphas and betas on the other side is much longer, winding several yards back. _Well, at least I’ll be in demand, I guess._  
  
“You’ll be out here if I change my mind?”  
  
Raven nods. “I won’t move from this spot. Oh, here.” She reaches into her pocket—which is impressive, considering how tight her jeans are—and pulls out a foil packet. “Condom.”  
  
Clarke arches her eyebrow, but takes it. “Uh… thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be using the holes I’ll need this for with a stranger.”

“Yeah, well, better safe than sorry. And you _could_ still use one for a blowjob, you know.”

“Thanks.” Clarke doesn’t know how to make this part less awkward, so she leans in for a one armed hug.  
  
Raven hugs her back, which makes her feel a little better. “You’re welcome. Now, go.” She slaps Clarke’s rear with the flat of her palm. “Go get you some, Princess.”  
  
Clarke rolls her eyes, but feels marginally better as she turns back to face the curtain. The remaining omega has already gone through, and after a moment, she notices a hand motioning her in. Drawing in a deep breath, Clarke steps through to the other side.

***

“Room twelve,” the dark-haired beta says, sounding exceptionally bored.  
  
Lexa doesn’t blame him. She probably would be too, if she had to spend her nights directing horny alphas into stalls to get serviced. Hopefully they’re paying this guy more than minimum wage, because just from looking into his haunted eyes, she can tell he’s seen some shit.  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
The beta extends his hand, dangling a key from his fingers, and Lexa takes it gingerly. She’s not sure she wants to know where it’s been. “You know the rules. Hole closes, you go to the back of the line. Try your luck again.”  
  
Lexa doesn’t know the rules, actually. She’s never done this before—never even imagined doing this before. And yet, here she is, about to seek sexual satisfaction in pretty much the most crass way possible.  
  
It’s not like she has many other options. Her work is her life. Has been for the past three years, since Costia had… She takes a breath. _Don’t think about that. This is just sex. Relief. And like Anya says, you desperately need it, ideally from someone who doesn’t want any strings._ _  
_  
It had been her cousin’s suggestion to come here, and though she’d been reluctant at first, Anya had eventually worn her down. A good fifty percent of the reason Lexa had agreed was just to shut her up.  
  
“You going or not?”  
  
Lexa suddenly realizes the dark haired beta is staring at her expectantly. She clears her throat and pockets her key. “Sorry. Room twelve, right?”  
  
He nods, studying her closely. Probably trying to decide if she’s high on something, Lexa suspects. But, no. She’d skipped the bar and come straight here. Drinking first had seemed like a bad idea. Nevertheless, she wobbles as she heads down the hallway, toward the latched door with a crooked number ‘12’ on it in plastic gold lettering. She inserts the key and opens it.  
  
The room isn’t much to look at. There’s a folding chair, a small cabinet with a couple bleached towels on top, and a basket of potpourri that does absolutely nothing for the smell. There’s a second wicker basket with condoms, which Lexa considers for a moment before selecting one. If she feels anything besides a mouth on the other side of the wall, she’ll slip it on.  
  
Next, she looks at the wall opposite the door. Unlike the ones to either side, this one has holes: three in a vertical row. The highest one comes up to Lexa’s belly button, the middle one lands right at crotch level, and the lower one… well, she imagines it would probably line up properly if she got on her knees. The holes have thin padding around the edges, for which Lexa is grateful. She doesn’t want splinters in any sensitive areas.  
  
She gulps, fidgeting with her hands. _If I’m going to do this, I should just get it over with. Then I can tell Anya it was stupid and I don’t want to go back._ After a deep breath Lexa unfastens her fly, reaching inside of her boxers. Her cock isn’t hard yet, although it twitches as she wraps her fist around it. The smell of this place, unpleasant as it is, has started to have an effect on her body.  
  
A moment later, a different smell entirely hits Lexa’s nose: not a swirling cloud of pheromones all clamoring for her attention, but a sharp, specific scent that makes her nostrils flare. She gasps, and her cock goes from soft to straining in the span of two seconds. Lexa’s head spins as all the blood in her body rushes south. She knows what the smell is. Omega. Raw, unfiltered omega, right on the other side of the wall.  
  
Normally, omegas don’t catch her interest. She’s been celibate for a long time, with hardly a sniff in their direction, even when her omega employees are close to their heats. But now, everything is different. This particular scent has hit her with the force of an eighteen wheeler, and she feels like her legs might buckle.  
  
_Shit._  
  
Lexa looks down at her cock, which is already an angry, glistening red at the tip. She looks at the middle hole in the wall, where she’s obviously supposed to put it. She should be torn about this, but she can’t seem to find a reason not to step up and slide herself through. That scent—that mouthwatering, irresistible scent—is calling to her in a way no other has, not since three years ago. But even that is fading from Lexa’s mind. Her head is full of fog, and the only thing she can concentrate on is the throbbing between her legs.  
  
She steps up to the wall.

***

Clarke licks her lips, staring intently at the holes in the wall. All her clothes are still on, and she honestly has no idea what she’s going to do. The thud of the bass is distant now, which gives her more time to think about her options. Maybe too much time.  
  
It’s not too late to back out. She can still turn and go, let some other omega take her spot. _But then why did I even come here? Things will just be like they were before. I’ll be lonely and horny and heartsick like some kind of idiot, moping in front of the TV. I don’t even feel like drawing._  
  
While Clarke’s nervous thoughts loop through her head, she hears a scratching noise beyond the wall. Footsteps? A door opening? She tilts her head, listening harder.  
  
Her nose gives her more information. An alpha. A strong one. The scent is staggering, not much sour aggression, but dominance to spare, and plenty of pent-up need. Clarke is surprised by how pleasant the alpha’s scent is. She’s usually picky when it comes to pheromones, but whoever this stranger is… well, they smell strangely appealing. Much more appealing than Clarke is expecting.  
  
This time, she definitely hears footsteps—not heavy, but confident. They draw closer to the wall, and Clarke holds her breath. Her head swims, and she feels the sudden impulse to kneel. No, not just an impulse. She _is_ kneeling near the hole, staring right at it as if she might steal a glimpse of the person on the other side.  
  
Clarke waits, mostly breathless, until she hears the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down. Her tongue grows thick, and her mouth starts to water. _Holy shit, am I really doing this? I might actually do this…_ The blunt head of a cock pokes through the wall, broad and dripping and tinged with a red flush that seems almost angry. _Oh shit. I’m doing this._ _  
_  
At first, Clarke just stares. The shaft jutting before her is probably the most beautiful one she’s ever seen. That’s surprising, considering she doesn’t have a very high opinion of penises to begin with. They’re funny-looking and don’t always work the way their owners want them to, and fingers can usually get the job done better anyway. But this one? This one looks like it belongs in porn. Long and smooth and perfectly even, its slight imperfections only make it more appealing. There’s a soft blue vein on one side of its length, and a mole near the base on the other side, but that’s about it. It’s also incredibly thick, and Clarke wonders if she’ll even be able to fit her fist around it.  
  
“Um…”  
  
A low voice comes from the other side of the wall. A woman’s voice, Clarke realizes with surprise. _A female alpha? Don’t see too many of those. Especially not hung like this._  
  
“Is everything… okay?”  
  
Some of Clarke’s fog dissolves. “I—wait, are we supposed to talk? Doesn’t that break the rules or something?”  
  
There’s a nervous laugh from the other side of the wall. “I have no idea.”  
  
Something about the alpha’s voice makes Clarke more comfortable. Her scent might be stimulating, but her voice is soothing—although Clarke suspects it could be very sharp and demanding under the right circumstances. She exhales and considers the cock sticking through the hole.  
  
_It’d be stupid to come this far and not do anything. So…_  
  
“I’m not sure if talking is allowed, but that’s not all I can do with my mouth.”  
  
_Seriously, Clarke? That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Just shut up and—_ _  
_  
“Really?” There is a swell of interest in the alpha’s scent, and the small pool of wetness at the tip of her cockhead drips further down her length.  
  
Clarke makes a decision. She wraps her fist around the base of the alpha’s shaft and bends her head to kiss the tip. That earns her a groan through the wall and a throb against her palm. The alpha’s cock is hot, hard, and it pulses lightly in her grip. Clarke summons her courage and opens her mouth, drawing the head between her lips.  
  
The alpha’s taste is actually pretty subtle. There’s a salty edge, but her precome is mostly just warm. After an experimental swirl of her tongue, Clarke decides she likes it. Maybe it’s because her heat’s coming on soon, but she doesn’t care. This alpha’s need is calling to her, and she has needs of her own to satisfy. She licks the dripping furrow, moaning as she takes another inch past her lips.  
  
_“Fuck.”_  
  
The alpha’s voice is low and raspy, but obviously pleased. Something about it encourages Clarke to keep going. Her feelings of awkwardness are fading, and something else is rising—hunger. She withdraws her mouth, but only to get some of the alpha’s wetness on her fingers. Then she strokes, pumping the shaft with her hand and bending her head again.

***

Lexa’s eyes roll back in her head, and she bites her lip to stifle a groan. The mouth on the other side of the wall is positively wicked. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long, or because she doesn’t have much experience to compare it to, but the warm, wet flicks of the omega’s tongue over her slit have her on the verge of humping forward into the wall.  
  
_“Fuck.”_  
  
She can’t help it. The word just slips out. There’s a pause, and Lexa has the fleeting fear that she’s done something wrong, but then the omega’s mouth returns, taking in more of her than before.  
  
Lexa tilts her head back, mouth open to the ceiling. Her hands tremble where they’re braced flat against the wall, and her heart pounds harder. The omega is stroking her now, pumping her entire length except for the portion wrapped in the heat of an unseen mouth. It’s filthy and overwhelming and amazing, and Lexa has the fleeting thought: _If it’s this easy, why didn’t I do it before?_  
  
It doesn’t matter. She growls, pushing her hips as close to the wall as possible in an effort to thrust. Her efforts are fruitless, but the omega takes pity on her. The warm mouth moves lower, stopping about midway down her shaft before drawing back up, leaving her wet and cold against the air. A whimper cracks in Lexa’s throat before she can swallow it, but her disappointment is short-lived. The omega starts bobbing on her cock, taking a little more each time.  
  
Soon, a good two thirds of her length are wrapped in silky heat. She can hear a few muffled smacking sounds through the wall, and the noises cause her abdominals to clench. _Oh no. Am I…_ Lexa realizes with growing worry that she’s already close to coming. The holes are big enough to fit her knot through, so she’s not worried about getting stuck, but she doesn’t want to embarrass herself, even in front of a stranger. Especially a stranger who is doing such wonderful things to her cock.  
  
Lexa draws a deep breath and grits her teeth. She’ll just have to hold on as best she can.  
  
That’s easier said than done. This omega obviously knows what she’s doing, because she pulls out all kinds of tricks. She lavishes attention on the head, suckling it with soft pressure and swirling her tongue through the furrow. She works the shaft, adding more pressure at the base and less as she moves up, which makes Lexa even more disappointed that she can’t really thrust. And sometimes, she dips all the way down, until Lexa’s sure her lips must be pressed against the wall. She can even feel the back of the omega’s throat.  
  
“Oh god. You’re so good at this it’s not fair.”  
  
Lexa doesn’t mean to say anything. Like before, the words sort of just tumble out before she can stop them. But once again, the omega doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she whimpers, and Lexa feels the vibrations race along her length. The base of her cock throbs with fullness, threatening to expand despite her efforts.  
  
In the end, instinct takes over. Even knowing it’s useless, Lexa ruts her hips into the wall, snarling softly as her tip nudges the back of the omega’s throat. Sometimes it slips deeper, and in those moments, she freezes, locking up every limb to try and hold back. But the omega isn’t giving her much of a choice. That talented tongue flicks faster, and the omega starts swallowing deliberately.  
  
Lexa clings to the edge for as long as possible, but eventually, her willpower snaps. She comes with a groan, inflating within the padded confines of the hole and pouring thick spurts of come into the omega’s mouth. Her orgasm is so strong that it’s almost a constant stream. She needs to be emptied, and this omega’s mouth feels like the perfect place.  
  
As she keeps spilling, she hears and feels something—the omega is whimpering between swallows, occasionally pulling back an inch or two to pant. The smell of arousal grows stronger, and Lexa realizes the omega is probably touching herself. Lexa can’t help but imagine what she might look like. _What color is her hair? Her eyes? Her skin? Is she naked, or wearing clothes? And how does she look with a hand shoved between her legs and her mouth full of cock? Beautiful,_ Lexa knows. She doesn’t have a clue as to the details, but she’s sure of that one thing.  
  
All too soon, it’s over. Lexa finishes, and after a sharp cry from the other side of the wall, she suspects the omega has, too. That makes her feel better about the whole thing. Knowing her anonymous partner was pleased makes it seem a little less sordid. She exhales shakily, wondering if she should say anything. Is a thank-you required in this situation?  
  
“Thanks,” she says, trying not to overthink it. “I… needed that.”  
  
There’s a pause, and then the omega says, “Me too.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Break-up,” she sighs.  
  
“Oh.” Lexa shifts uncomfortably, wondering whether she should remove herself from the hole. “They’re probably an idiot.”  
  
That gets her a laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.”  
  
“So…”  
  
“So… bye?”  
  
Lexa isn’t sure where the strange sinking feeling in her heart is coming from when she says, “Yeah. Bye.”

***

“So, how was it?”  
  
Clarke doesn’t answer Raven’s question. She remains by the curtain, watching carefully to see who comes out the other side. She knows the whole point of this is anonymity, but part of her can’t help being curious. _I just want to know what she looks like. A quick peek, in case…_ In case of what, she doesn’t know. Or doesn’t want to admit.  
  
“Claaarke!” Raven grasps her by the shoulders, dragging her away from the curtains and onto the dance floor. Clarke attempts a struggle, but Raven is surprisingly strong and twice as insistent. She hauls Clarke through the crowd and out a back door, into a cloud of stale cigarette smoke from various loners puffing away.  
  
“How was it?” Raven asks again, maintaining way too much expectant eye contact.  
  
Clarke sighs. “Fun, actually. And she was weirdly nice? And I would have gotten to see her face if you hadn’t dragged me away.”  
  
That makes Raven more apologetic. “Wait, she? And you wanted to see who she was?”  
  
“Female alpha,” Clarke says. “Which was nice, actually. And yes, I did. But you ruined it.”  
  
“Well, sorry,” Raven mumbles. “You could always try again, I guess?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Raven shrugs. “You know. Same bat time, same bat channel. Come back next Friday and ask for the same room.”  
  
Clarke sucks her lower lip. _Maybe… wait, no. That would be weird. But what if she comes back looking for me?_ The thought of someone else servicing the alpha makes Clarke feel strangely disappointed.  
  
“Fine,” she says, sounding more decisive than she feels. “But you’re buying me a burrito before we go home, because I’m hungry and you were an asshole.”  
  
Raven grins. “You mean you want to stuff your mouth with something else?”  
  
Clarke rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

 

* * *

 

**Second Friday**

*******

“Uh, actually, could I have room twelve?”  
  
The attendant gives Lexa a strange look. “All the rooms are the same. You’re supposed to take this one.” He offers her the key to Room 11 again, waiting expectantly for her to take it.  
  
Lexa has a brief inward debate. _If I can’t get into the right room, is it really worth going? Why am I even here in the first place? There’s no guarantee she’ll come._ Even so, some part of Lexa can’t help hoping. She’s been haunted by the omega’s scent, her voice, and the memory of that mouth all week. She hadn’t even cared when Anya had teased her for wanting to go back.  
  
Someone clears their throat behind her, and she turns to see a male alpha with unruly brown hair, a broad nose, and a dimple in his chin. “Hey, lady. You’re holding up the line.”  
  
Lexa is annoyed for a fraction of a second _—can’t this guy wait one minute to get his rocks off?—_ but then, inspiration strikes. “Go ahead of me,” she says, waving him forward.  
  
Luckily, the alpha doesn’t stop to question her. He steps forward and snatches the key from the surprised attendant’s hand, stalking off toward Room 11 with a posturing swagger. Lexa wrinkles her nose at the unpleasant scent that trails after him, but when she turns back to the attendant, she’s grinning. “Room twelve, please.”  
  
The attendant sighs and removes the next key from the pegboard behind him. “Here you go.”  
  
Lexa takes the key and hurries back to Room 12 as fast as she can without actually jogging there. Her heart leaps as soon as she opens the door. The omega’s smell is there, much to her relief. Lexa’s cock strains against her fly in a matter of seconds.  
  
A familiar voice comes through the wall. “You?”  
  
Lexa clears her throat. “Um, yeah. Me.”  
  
There’s a sigh of relief. “Then I don’t feel so stupid for coming.”  
  
“Same,” Lexa laughs.  
  
“So…”  
  
“Uh…”  
  
Lexa hurries over to the wall and unzips her pants. She can scarcely contain her eagerness as she pulls her cock out and sticks it through the hole. Almost immediately, the omega’s hot mouth latches onto her, sucking so insistently that Lexa lets out a startled cry. It’s all pleasure, though, and within moments, her head is swimming with need. She has no idea what it is, but this omega’s mouth is addictive.  
  
“Mm…” Lexa hears the omega moans through the hole between slurps. “You—mff… taste… good…”  
  
Lexa tries to say something, but she can only growl and rut her hips into the wall. She wants to bury herself as far as she can in the omega’s throat, to claim it as hers. She thinks of the other alpha, the one who almost came into the room instead. _Not today. This omega’s all mine._ _  
_  
The omega works her from base to tip, taking her so deep that Lexa forgets to breathe. Three years with almost no sex drive, and now she feels like a pup in her first rut again, ready to come at the slightest touch. “Fuck,” she rumbles, scratching her nails down the wall in search of support that isn’t there. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”  
  
The wet noises stop, and the heat leaves. “Come,” the omega says. “It’s okay.” Then she descends again, and Lexa’s entire body goes rigid. She doesn’t even have time to knot all the way before the tip of her cock sinks down the omega’s throat.  
  
She comes hard and fast, spilling everything she’s got. Her length throbs with each jet, but the omega’s mouth remains right where it is, and the sensation of hot muscle moving around the top of her shaft makes Lexa pulse even harder. It’s utter bliss, and also an enormous relief. She feels like she’s been carrying this load for a lot longer than a week.  
  
It’s over too soon. The omega’s mouth leaves her, and Lexa whimpers as the cold air hits her wet skin. As good as it felt, she wishes she hadn’t come. Then, to her surprise, the omega starts stroking with a gentle hand. Her fist is loose, which Lexa is grateful for, since she’s still extremely sensitive, but as she hardens, the omega’s grip tightens. Soon, Lexa feels the urge to thrust again.  
  
The omega’s voice floats through the wall. “So, would it be okay if I… did something else?”  
  
It takes Lexa a moment to process. Now that she’s full again, some of her higher brain functions have shut down. When she realizes what the omega means, she can only give one answer, although it sounds a bit like a nervous question: “Yes?”

***

Reluctantly, Clarke lets go of the alpha’s cock and climbs off her knees. There are several pieces of furniture in the room, but the one her eyes land on is a short, cushioned bench. Considering the height and shape, it’s obviously meant for exactly this purpose. She drags it over to the wall, then hurries to unfasten her pants.  
  
_I probably shouldn’t do this_ , she thinks as she toes out of her shoes and kicks her jeans off. _It’s risky._ But she’s already peeling off her soaked panties and hurrying over to the bowl of condoms above the cabinet. She rips open the foil packet with her teeth, and another wicked thought occurs to her. _I could always just not use one._  
  
She shakes herself. No, she isn’t going to be that stupid. Still, the idea sends a shiver down her spine. She hurries back to the wall, where the alpha’s hard cock is waiting for her. “I’m putting a condom on you,” she says, waiting for any objections.  
  
There are none. All the alpha says is, “Okay.”  
  
Clarke sighs with relief. Yet more proof this particular alpha isn’t an asshole. She’s definitely going to have to wait outside the curtain this time to catch a glimpse. She rolls the condom over the alpha’s shaft, making sure to leave room in the tip. The alpha pulls back, removing her cock from the hole, and Clarke leans forward over the waist-high bench, doing an awkward scoot backward.  
  
As soon as she lines herself up with the hole, the alpha’s cock returns. The blunt head probes her lips, and Clarke gasps at the sensation. It feels like the alpha is teasing her, testing her—but that’s not what she wants. She wants to be filled, and she says so, pleading in a breathy voice. “Please, fuck me?”  
  
Apparently, all she had to do was ask. The alpha’s cock pushes forward, and Clarke yelps in surprise. She was expecting to take it all at once, with how wet she already was, but it’s so big that there’s still resistance. The width of the head makes her entrance burn, but it’s not unpleasant. _Actually, the pain feels kind of… good?_  
  
There’s a grunt of frustration from behind her, and then Clarke feels the thick tip pop in. She whines with a mixture of pain and need, but to her surprise, the alpha doesn’t start thrusting right away. There’s a pause, and everything is silent.  
  
“Are you okay?” the voice behind the wall says, with an obvious note of concern.  
  
Clarke blushes. She’s surprised the alpha has asked. “Yeah. Feels mostly good. Just… go slow at first?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
The alpha pushes forward, going slowly as promised. Soon, Clarke’s entrance stops resisting the intrusion. She relaxes, and more of the shaft slides in, stretching her inner walls and soothing the empty ache within her. It feels good. Really good. Better than letting Finn fuck her, which is surprising, since he had the advantage of actually seeing and touching her. But this alpha can hit places Clarke didn’t even know she had, and when the alpha’s length bottoms out, Clarke feels the head nudge the end of her channel.  
  
“Wow.”  
  
“Mmhmm.”  
  
The alpha starts thrusting, softly at first, then with more enthusiasm. Clarke winces through the first stroke or two, but then all of her discomfort melts into pleasure. Being full to the brim, then empty, then full again puts her in a needy haze, and she gasps each time the alpha pumps into her. _Fuck, fuck, fuck—so big, so full, fuck._  
  
Clarke doesn’t realize she’s chanting aloud until she hears the alpha growl. “Yes. Wanna fill you.”  
  
The words make Clarke’s head spin. Even though they’re in separate rooms, she can smell the alpha’s need all around her, and it’s driving her almost as wild as the cock pistoning in and out of her. She clenches down, fruitlessly trying to keep it inside even though she doesn’t want the friction to stop. The alpha gasps, then pounds into her even harder.  
  
_She felt that? Well then…_  
  
Clarke squeezes down again, this time on purpose. That earns a sharp groan, and the noise sends another wave of heat straight between Clarke’s legs. Wetness is running down her thighs, but she doesn’t care. The only thing she’s focused on is the wonderful feeling of being fucked. Of this alpha fucking her.  
  
On the next thrust, Clarke realizes something is different. The alpha has stopped about two inches short, without burying herself all the way. Clarke whimpers, lifting her hips and rocking back for more, but she can’t take the rest of the alpha’s shaft. The base has started swelling, and it makes her entrance sting when she tries.  
  
_Oh shit,_ Clarke realizes, with another surge of arousal. _She’s knotting. If I work myself back a little more, I could…_  
  
But, no. That’s a bad idea. As appealing as she finds this alpha, and even though they’re using a condom, it’s something of a risk. A risk part of her wants to take, but that what’s left of her brain knows she shouldn’t. The alpha rocks forward, starting to stretch her opening, and Clarke feels a sudden spike of fear and desire. If she stays still, the choice might not be in her hands.  
  
The alpha’s voice comes again: “Do you want me to…” It’s a question, although the alpha’s tone is full of longing.  
  
“Not this time,” Clarke says, trying to bury her own disappointment. “But come. Please come.”  
  
That seems to please the alpha. She starts thrusting again, and even though she can’t hit quite as deep, the way her knot rubs Clarke’s opening makes up for it. The bulge is even large enough to catch her clit if she angles her hips right. Her walls clench, grasping everything they can, and Clarke grits her teeth, trying to hang on a little longer.  
  
She comes first. Something within her snaps, and her shout fills the room as her muscles start fluttering. The ripples course through her entire body, but they rock her core the most, causing her to clench hard around the thickness buried inside her.  
  
The alpha comes a split second after. Her thrusts become sloppy, uneven, and then she shoves as far as she can without tying. The condom doesn’t stop Clarke from feeling the throb of the alpha’s shaft, but something isn’t quite right. She whimpers, unsure what it is, and squeezes tighter, straining for… something…  
  
_Her come. I want her to come in me._  
  
That isn’t possible with the condom, and Clarke’s sighs of pleasure become sobs of disappointment. Her orgasm is powerful, but something about it isn’t as satisfying. Suddenly, she wants nothing more than to feel the hot spurts of the alpha’s seed splashing inside her, in spite of all the risks. That thought carries her through the rest of her peak, causing her to pulse until she’s too exhausted to continue.

***

Lexa releases a loud huff of breath, resting her forehead against the wall. Her hair is clinging to her damp temples, and her heart is pounding, but she has a huge grin on her face. _That was amazing. I didn’t think… I didn’t even hope that…_ The omega’s walls give another twitch around her, and she spills a little more. _Even without knotting her, I…_ _  
_  
“Everything okay?”  
  
Lexa realizes she’s been resting inside the omega longer than she’s probably supposed to, considering there’s a wall between them. “Oh. Sorry. Hold still.” She pulls out, hissing at the loss of the omega’s tight warmth. Luckily, the condom seems to be in-tact. Her come is in the expandable deposit at the end, and there don’t appear to be any leaks. She rolls it off and ties it, throwing it into the garbage can. “Everything’s good.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
There’s an awkward pause.  
  
“So… that was fun?”  
  
Lexa laughs. “Yeah. Sorry if you wanted, uh, longer. I—”  
  
It’s the omega’s turn to giggle. “I’m not sure I could have handled longer. You’re hung like a horse.”  
  
Her cheeks heat up. “That’s not what I—” She sighs. “So, I came here the first time because it’s been a while for me.”  
  
“Really?” The omega sounds surprised. “You smell really good and have basically the perfect dick.”  
  
“Uh, thanks?” Lexa has to swallow down the lump in her throat before trying again. “I had a mate, but she…”  
  
As soon as she brings it up, Lexa regrets it. This definitely isn’t the place for such confessions, and the omega in the other room is still a total stranger. _You idiot. She came here to get fucked, not listen to your problems like some kind of therapist._  
  
“Oh. I’m sorry.”  
  
Lexa’s eyes start to sting a little. The omega’s voice sounds genuine, like she really feels bad. “Don’t be.”  
  
“Sorry for saying sorry. You must get that a lot. Bet it’s annoying.”  
  
“Sometimes. It’s okay.”  
  
Another pause. “But I hope, well… I hope this helped? Maybe.”  
  
Lexa surprises herself by smiling. “I think it did.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“So…”  
  
“So…” Lexa fidgets as she zips up her pants. “Bye for now, I guess?”  
  
“Yeah. For now.”  
  
Lexa sits down on the bench by the cabinet for a while, listening to the stillness. She thinks she can hear the rustle of the omega getting dressed through the wall, and then the sound of a door closing. She doesn’t leave her own room. She isn’t ready yet.  
  
After a while, she stares down at her hands, squeezing out a few tears from her rapidly blinking eyes. “What am I even doing here, Costia?” she asks the emptiness. “Can’t I even fuck someone without getting attached or missing you?”  
  
She knows what Costia would tell her, of course. The sadness would never go away completely, but Costia had always insisted that if something happened to her, Lexa should move on and try to be happy when she was ready.  
  
_But I don’t know if I am. And I can’t exactly move on with some omega I met through a gloryhole. That’s stupid._  
  
Stupid or not, the thought makes Lexa’s heart twinge in a way that’s half-painful, half-hopeful. She isn’t ready to leave the room yet, and might not be for a while, but she does know she’ll be coming back next week.

 

* * *

 

 

**Third Friday**

*******

“You want me to do what?” the male attendant says.  
  
Clarke ignores his odd look and extends her hand again, which is currently holding a sealed white envelope. “I just said, if a female alpha comes in here specifically asking for the key to room twelve, give her this instead.”  
  
The attendant hesitates. “I’m really not supposed to—”  
  
“I’ll pay you sixty bucks.” Clarke shoves the envelope into his hand and reaches into her purse, withdrawing a wad of bills. “Take it,” she insists, adding just a little omega persuasiveness.  
  
The attendant doesn’t stand a chance. He gulps, shifting uncomfortably—probably wishing he could adjust his pants. His eyes dart back and forth, as if he’s worried someone might see, but he takes the money and tucks it into his pocket. “Okay, fine. Not the weirdest thing I’ve been asked to do here, anyway.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Clarke gives him a tight smile and hurries out through the curtain, past several alphas waiting in line who all give her curious, then hungry, looks. The hairs on the back of Clarke’s neck prickle, and several drops of sweat roll down her back. In her current state, the powerful smell that lingers around the back rooms isn’t so offensive to her nose. In fact, it makes her stomach flutter. But it isn’t the smell she wants. None of these alphas feel right.  
  
She heads over to the omega hallway, ducking past the curtain to see the female beta attendant—Harper, she’s come to learn over the past two weeks. “Did he take it?” she asks when Clarke steps through.  
  
“Yeah,” Clarke says. “Had to pay him, though.”  
  
Harper snorts. “Jasper’s… meh. But don’t worry, he’ll give it to her.”  
  
“Think so?” Clarke asks, unsure whether she’s trembling with nerves or discomfort. Her skin is crawling, and she’s practically itching to get out of her clothes.  
  
“Yeah. If I see a female alpha wandering around looking confused, I’ll step in.”  
  
“Okay. Thanks.”  
  
“No problem,” Harper says. Then, “You’d better head on back. Your face looks like a tomato and you smell like… well, this place.”  
  
Clarke bites her lip and whimpers. She feels flushed, but she hadn’t known it was bad enough to be visible. “Okay.” With a nod goodbye, she heads to the very back of the hall, where there’s a heavy door without a number on it. She withdraws another key from her purse and unlocks it, heading into the back. There are four other rooms here, but she heads to the first one—number 13.  
  
It’s cleaner than she’s expecting, which is something of a relief. _Guess they disinfect the heat rooms more often._ There’s also air conditioning, which feels blessedly cool on Clarke’s skin. She wastes no time stripping out of her clothes and tossing them into the provided hamper, wincing a little as she peels her soaked underwear away last of all. She’s almost painfully sensitive, and her heat is getting worse by the second.  
  
Her eyes flick over to the only item of furniture in the room: a padded table with curved support at the head, tilted handlebars on both sides, and straps along the rear. Clarke swallows. She can picture what goes where, and it’s a very appealing mental image, but there’s still a nervous tickle in her stomach.  
  
_What if she doesn’t come? What if Jasper doesn’t give her the key? Or what if she does come, but decides she doesn’t want me? She did say she’d lost her mate. Maybe she’s not ready to fuck someone she can actually see? But her voice sounded… lonely? Like she wished she could touch me. And I want her to touch me for real._ _  
_  
Clarke squirms, torn with indecision. Eventually, though, instinct wins out. Her discomfort is swells into an unbearable ache, and she hurries over to the breeding table, fastening the straps and buckles around her thighs and waist with fumbling fingers. Luckily, they aren’t hard to manage, because her hands won’t stop shaking. Once her lower half is secured, she bends over the table, resting her forehead on the extra padding and reaching down for the handles.  
  
It’s not too bad. The padding helps. She doesn’t technically need to use the restraints, she supposes, but she hadn’t thought it through at the time. Now, part of her doesn’t want to take them off. Her rising need won’t let her. Something in her longs to submit, and although she knows it’s only instinct, Clarke can’t resist.  
  
_I just hope this isn’t a terrible mistake._

***

Lexa hesitates in front of the black curtain, glancing nervously at the line next to her. There are two omegas waiting, but both of them are male. Neither of them are her omega.  
  
_Is it even okay to think of her as mine? I don’t know anything about her, not even her name._ _  
_  
Still, Lexa can’t help feeling some kind of connection to the stranger who has been on the other side of the wall for the past two weeks. That’s why she’s back for a third time, hoping against hope that her oversharing last Friday hadn’t scared the omega off.  
  
“You going or not?” someone says from behind her. She turns to see the same grumpy alpha from last time with the tousled hair and the scowling expression. Lexa rolls her eyes. She has no idea what she’s done to end up in line with this joker again, but she’s pretty much fed up with it. She growls, letting her pheromones flare for just a moment before stepping through the curtain so she won’t have to deal with him.  
  
The smell hits her as soon as she passes to the other side. Omega: hot, wet, needy. It fills her nose and mouth, so thick she can almost taste it. And not just any omega. It’s her omega, distilled. _But she’s not here. So why…?_  
  
Her heat. It has to be. Lexa can’t think of any other explanation. Her cock swells in a matter of seconds, trying to burst right through her zipper. She hurries over to the attendant, who is staring at her curiously. “Room twelve, please,” she says, sticking out her hand.  
  
She’s ready for a repeat of last week’s argument, but this time, the attendant doesn’t object. To Lexa’s surprise, he pulls something out from his shirt pocket instead. “You’re the one, I guess. Here. Some omega left this for you.”  
  
Lexa looks down. He’s holding a plain white envelope, although it seems oddly heavy. She takes it, sliding her finger beneath the seal.  
  
The first thing that falls out is a key. It has a tag on it like the ones on the pegboard, but instead of the number 12, the number 13 is printed on the front. Lexa’s heart does a flip inside her chest. _Is this from her? Has to be. But could it mean… could she want to…_  
  
She digs into the envelope and pulls out two sheets of paper. The first is a note with a somewhat scratchy left-handed scrawl: _“I’ll be waiting for you in Room 13. If you want, please come join me. I want to see you face to face.”_ A few spaces down, the note is signed with a name: _Clarke._  
  
_Clarke. So that’s her name._ Knowing makes Lexa’s breath catch. She flips to the next piece of paper, and her eyes widen further. It’s typed rather than scribbled, and has the address of a doctor’s office printed at the top. _Wait, what’s this. Test results?_  
  
Realization dawns. The omega—Clarke—had gotten an STI screening. Through the fog that suddenly descends upon her, Lexa can only really make one word. ‘Negative’, written several times. Her cock gives an uncomfortable twitch in her pants. She knows what Clarke is trying to tell her. _Come and take me. I’m yours._  
  
Lexa folds up the note and the test results, shoves them in her pocket, and rushes to the end of the hallway without even thanking the attendant. Her hand trembles as she tries the key in the lock at the final door, but somehow, she manages to fit it in. The knob turns, and she sees four more rooms. One of them has the number ‘13’ embossed in gold, and luckily, the key works in that door too.  
  
She smells Clarke before she sees her. The scent of aroused omega is so strong that Lexa can’t pick up anything else. She doesn’t mind, because she doesn’t want to smell anything else anyway. She would be perfectly happy carrying nothing but Clarke in her nose for the rest of her life. A small shock runs through her as she replays that thought in her head, trying to decide what it means, but she doesn’t have the brainpower. Instead, she forces her eyes to focus.  
  
In front of her is an omega—or, rather, an omega’s upturned rear. Granted, it’s a very nice rear, full and firm and the perfect size for Lexa’s palms to grab. So she does, stepping forward and filling her hands with Clarke’s warm flesh. _At least, I hope this is Clarke…_  
  
“You?” the omega says, turning to look over her shoulder.  
  
The moment she speaks, Lexa knows her nose didn’t lead her astray. This is definitely her Clarke. She has the same low, throaty voice, and Lexa is thrilled to discover her eyes are a lovely, clear blue, the same color as the sky. “Clarke.”  
  
Clarke’s smile is even more beautiful than her eyes. “You came… um, what is your name?”  
  
Lexa has to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth before responding. “Lexa.”  
  
“Lexa.” Hearing Clarke say her name sends a rush of heat straight between Lexa’s legs. “Please, Lexa? I need… I’m in heat, and… I want you…”  
  
Clarke’s mumbling is interspersed with whimpers, and she tries to rock her hips back. Lexa growls, tightening her grip on Clarke’s backside. “I want you too,” she rasps, stepping up to the breeding table. “I want to help. Whatever you need.”  
  
“Whatever… whatever I need…” Clarke’s eyes go glassy, and she turns her head back around, attempting to raise her ass higher despite the straps. “Lexa, _fuck me.”_

***

Clarke is on fire. Her entire body burns from her head to her toes, and the only patches of skin that haven’t been set aflame are the ones under Lexa’s hands. Those same hands knead her backside, and Clarke gasps as they grope her flesh. She’s spent two weeks wondering what Lexa’s hands feel like, and the reality is better than she imagined.  
  
But it’s not enough. There’s a crippling ache inside her, and having Lexa near has made it ten times worse. She needs to be filled. Fucked. If she doesn’t get something inside her soon, she’ll go insane. “Please,” she begs, regretting her choice to strap her legs and waist in. “Lexa, fill me?”  
  
A snarl comes from behind her, and one of Lexa’s hands leaves her ass—but Clarke doesn’t mind, because she hears the sound of a zipper being undone. A moment later, the blunt tip of Lexa’s cock is at her entrance, teasing her with its thickness. “I can get… condom…” Lexa pants, although her voice is very strained.  
  
“No,” Clarke moans, tearing up at the very thought. But she wants to offer Lexa a choice, heat-brain or not. “But if you want one, we can—ahh!” She doesn’t get a chance to finish. Lexa has slammed inside her, breaching her entrance with that huge, swollen head. Clarke’s lashes flutter, and she can’t keep her eyes open. She can’t remember ever being this full, not even last week when Lexa fucked her through the wall. Somehow it feels even more intense with Lexa’s hands on her hips.  
  
“Clarke,” Lexa grunts from behind her. “Clarke, you’re so… so fucking tight.” Lexa gives a sharp push, and Clarke yelps as another inch slips inside. Thankfully, she’s wet and her muscles are greedy. It slides in with only a little resistance.  
  
“All of it,” Clarke mutters against the table, not even sure if Lexa can hear her. “Give me all of you. I want it.”  
  
Either way, Lexa knows what to do. She shoves the rest of the way in, bringing her pelvis up against Clarke’s ass. There isn’t any time for Clarke to adjust. As soon as Lexa bottoms out, she’s off like a shot, pounding Clarke into the table with incredible strength and speed.  
  
A strangled shout breaks in Clarke’s throat. No one has ever fucked her this hard, this deep, this well. It might have hurt outside of her heat, but right now, it’s everything her body craves. Judging from the smell of alpha swirling around her, it’s everything Lexa’s craving too. She leans forward, spilling soft growls onto the back of Clarke’s neck.  
  
“Been thinking about fucking you… since last week…”  
  
Clarke has too, but she’s lost the ability to say so. All she can do whimper and take whatever Lexa gives her. It’s everything she’s wanted and more, and the faster Lexa goes, the needier she gets. _“Lexa, Lexa, Lexa…”_ She hardly notices she’s chanting the alpha’s name aloud, but she doesn’t care. She’s past embarrassment and shame. As long as Lexa makes her come, as long as Lexa comes in her, it will be enough to soothe her pain.  
  
“Clarke. _Mine.”_ Lexa’s tongue swipes along the nape of Clarke’s neck, leaving a wet stripe behind. Clarke squirms, gripping the metal handles beside the table until her knuckles turn white. Lexa’s teeth are incredibly close to her throat, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel if they sank into her flesh.  
  
_It’s your heat talking,_ she thinks. _You don’t want her to bite you._ But even so, the possibility makes Clarke clench around Lexa’s length. “Yours, Lexa.”  
  
To Clarke’s disappointment, Lexa doesn’t bite. She sucks without using too much teeth, but hard enough that Clarke knows she’ll have a visible bruise at the crook of her throat. That’s enough to satisfy her inner omega, at least for the moment. Her walls pulse around the shaft buried within her. Lexa’s close too, she can tell. The alpha’s cock is straining with fullness.  
  
On Lexa’s next thrust, the head doesn’t hit the end of Clarke’s channel. She mewls with disappointment, only to groan instead when something even thicker nudges her opening. _Her knot. Oh god, she’s knotting._ Without the wall in between, it feels bigger than Clarke remembers. Her heart pounds fearfully even as her muscles shiver in preparation. No matter how much it might hurt, her body wants it. She won’t be satisfied until she’s holding Lexa’s knot deep inside.  
  
“Please,” she cries, using her most imploring voice. “Please, baby, knot me.”  
  
As soon as Clarke asks, her wish is granted. Lexa holds her hips in an iron grip, using the table to keep her still as the large bulge at her entrance sinks forward. _It hurts. Oh, fuck, it hurts. But… full.. so good… stretching… unnnh…_ For a moment, Clarke is sure Lexa’s going to split her open, but at last, the alpha’s swollen knot pops inside her with a slick sucking sound.  
  
The moment Clarke’s muscles wrap around it, she goes careening over the edge. She can’t help it. Lexa is stretching her further than anything else has, putting pressure in places she’s never even been aware of before. Her walls clamp down and start to quiver, milking Lexa’s knot and shaft with heavy ripples. Two seconds later, Lexa releases her hold and lets out a roar. Her hips jerk against Clarke’s ass, and then she comes, flooding Clarke’s core with what feels like an ocean of come. The spurts are quick and strong and constant, and Clarke keens as they splash her inner walls, forcing them to expand.  
  
Before she’s swept away by pleasure, Clarke has one last coherent thought. _Now that I know how she really feels inside me, I don’t want to let her go._

***

The moment Clarke’s walls start shivering, Lexa knows she’s done for. She tries valiantly to hold out, even just for a few more seconds, but there’s no hope. All she can do is growl and push as deep inside Clarke as possible as the pressure throbbing up and down her aching length bursts free. The first jets warp her vision. Clarke’s golden hair becomes a blur before her eyes, and her hearing goes white as her release flies out of her to fill Clarke.  
  
_Clarke. Full. Mine._  
  
Lexa takes Clarke’s shoulder back in her teeth, careful not to break the skin, but desperate for the flavor of her omega’s flesh on her tongue. Clarke is hers, even if only for now, and she wants everyone to know it.  
  
For the first few minutes, Lexa keeps thrusting. She can’t pull out while her knot is lodged so deep, and she doesn’t want to either, but she uses what little leverage she has to sustain some movement. Clarke makes soft cooing noises, so Lexa keeps going, savoring the way her omega’s muscles milk her shaft for more. And she has plenty more to give.  
  
Even when Lexa stops rutting into Clarke’s backside, her orgasm continues. She rests on top of Clarke’s back, nuzzling her neck and allowing the omega’s walls to draw the rest of her come out. It’s absolutely blissful. Her body is full of fuzzy tingles, with only the occasional sharp aftershock.  
  
_Oh god. The last time I felt this good was… was…_  
  
Lexa removes her lips from the crook of Clarke’s throat. She doesn’t pull out, or even try to, but she reaches up with one hand and touches the base of her neck. Costia’s mark is still there. Her eyes burn, and she can’t breathe. Then, slowly, the wave of pain recedes. _It’s okay. Costia isn’t gone. She’s still inside me. But…_ Lexa looks down at Clarke, although she can only see the omega’s tangled golden hair. _But I know she’d want me to be loved again. She said she wanted me to be happy. Maybe Clarke could…_  
  
She swallows the lump in her throat, knowing she’s getting ahead of herself, but it’s too late. A few tears have already fallen onto Clarke’s neck. Instantly, the omega starts pumping out soothing pheromones. They work quickly, and within a few moments, Lexa feels much more relaxed. It’s only when the tension in her chest loosens that she notices a relaxing vibration underneath her. _Oh. Clarke’s...purring?_ Lexa smiles and starts up too. It’s raspy at first—she’s out of practice—but Clarke makes a happy noise and purrs even louder.  
  
They stay like that for a while, still tied together, content in their silence. Once in a while, a tear drips off Lexa’s cheek, but it’s okay. Crying is okay.  
  
“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke says at last. “You don’t know how much I needed this.”  
  
Lexa kisses the nape of Clarke’s neck. “Not as much as I did, Clarke.” Clarke laughs, and Lexa says, “What?”  
  
“I like the way you say my name. _Klark.”_  
  
“Isn’t that how it’s pronounced?”  
  
“It’s fine,” Clarke says. “But Lexa… are you, you know, okay?”  
  
Lexa sighs. “Yeah. I think I am.”  
  
“You miss her, huh?”  
  
“Every day. But it’s getting easier. And I think… I think I’ve been lonely for a long time. Longer than she would have wanted.”  
  
Clarke is quiet for a while, then says, “I’ve been lonely too.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Mmhmm. I have my friends, but I want… more.”  
  
It’s an opening the size of the grand canyon. Lexa can’t possibly miss it. “Well, maybe we could try being lonely together?”  
  
Clarke turns to look back at her. “I’d like that. But are you sure?”  
  
In answer, Lexa kisses her. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, but when Clarke’s tongue sweeps against her bottom lip, she’s lost again. Even at the awkward angle, with Clarke’s neck bent and both of them still stuck together, Lexa can’t imagine a more perfect first kiss.  
  
They only break apart because they need to breathe. “I’m sure,” Lexa whispers.  
  
“Okay.” A grin spreads across my face. “So, uh… do you have any objections to going back to my place? I should be good for a few minutes, but—well, heats are a bitch to handle alone.”  
  
Lexa grins back. “I think I can clear my schedule for this weekend.”  
  
“Good. I’ll feed you.”  
  
“Oh?” Lexa tugs at Clarke’s bottom lip with her teeth. “I hope your refrigerator’s stocked. I have a feeling we’re going to burn a lot of calories.”


	2. Table For Two

**In The Car**

Clarke has never been a fan of city driving, and that’s putting it mildly. It’s annoying in the extreme, full of enough awkward starts and stops to drive a sane person crazy. She’s pretty sure there’s a city-wide conspiracy to make her late most mornings, since the traffic lights she hits on her way to school are almost always red.

This time, she doesn’t mind the red lights. In fact, she appreciates the hell out of them, because it means she can actually jack Lexa’s cock properly in precious thirty-second intervals instead of just lightly rubbing it with her palm. Lexa’s shaft is currently sticking out of her unfastened slacks, standing proudly at attention beneath the steering wheel — and Lexa is blushing, which turns Clarke on even more.

“We, uhh… we should’ve taken the subway,” Lexa hisses through gritted teeth, lashes fluttering as she thrusts herself weakly into Clarke’s hand. The motions aren’t weak for lack of passion, but because she’s clinging to restraint, and not very well either. Clarke can feel the force Lexa is trying not to unleash, a quivering strength that threatens to snap with each stroke of her fist.

“Nuh-uh. This is better.”

Clarke licks her lips, staring hungrily at the head of Lexa’s cock. It’s got a beautiful crimson flush, and the tip is slick and shiny, leaking enough precome to coat the tops of her fingers and lube up the motion of her hand. She wants it in her mouth. Wants it more than the first time she saw Lexa’s beautiful length poking through a padded glory hole in the wall, visibly pleading for her to tend to it.

_ It’s heat brain, _ Clarke thinks, but some part of her knows that isn’t entirely true. She feels something for Lexa beyond lust, something new and fragile, but also exciting in its power.  _ Could this be the start of an actual relationship? _ She hopes so. She also hopes they’ll get to her apartment soon, because when the light turns green again, Lexa hits the accelerator, forcing Clarke to stop pumping her cock and settle for light strokes instead.

That doesn’t last long, though, because soon she’s jerking Lexa off through green lights as well, through slightly erratic stops and starts as the car weaves through traffic. Lexa’s basically a fountain, dripping absolutely everywhere, and once more, Clarke’s lips long to latch onto the leaking tip for a taste.

So she does. 

She wiggles to loosen her seatbelt without unbuckling, ducking under the chest strap so she can lean sideways. She groans as she finally draws Lexa into her mouth, wasting no time before swirling her tongue through the mess of precome waiting for her. Lexa is hot and hard and, oh god,  _ full _ , and Clarke bobs greedily, taking as many inches as possible while her neck is craned in such an ungodly position.

“Uhhnnn!”

Lexa flinches in surprise, and her hand flies down, fisting Clarke’s hair as if to pull her away. But Lexa  _ doesn’t _ pull her away. Instead, she pushes down, and Clarke takes a deep breath in through her nose seconds before the blunt head of Lexa’s cock probes the back of her throat, trying to bury itself there.

“Gonna — mmm… gonna pull over,” Lexa pants.

Clarke whimpers in protest, sucking harder to let the alpha know that’s a bad idea. She hasn’t been paying that much attention to the drive, but they  _ have _ to be close to her apartment by now. Close to a bed where Lexa can throw her down and fuck her raw, just like in the breeding room back at the club. Her field of vision is limited with her face shoved in Lexa’s lap, but she sees Lexa’s hands flex on the steering wheel. Thinking about them on her and in her makes Clarke’s skin burn painfully hot.

She’s heatsick, no question. Maybe they won’t make it to the apartment after all.

“Oh, fuck it,” Lexa snarls, cutting the wheel and pulling into the nearest parking lot. It’s between a gas station and a drug store, but if there are any other people or vehicles nearby, Clarke doesn’t notice. Lexa chooses that moment to clutch the back of her head harder, and although the alpha doesn’t push, the gesture is full of need.

It’s a need that Clarke yearns to satisfy with every fiber of her omega being. She gulps around Lexa’s cock, letting the tip sink all the way into her throat as she slides her lips determinedly toward the base. It’s already swollen with the start of a knot, and Clarke wraps both hands around it, kneading in the hopes of making Lexa come. She doesn’t care if this is fast and messy. Her heat will last several days, so there will be plenty of other opportunities to stretch things out.

Her efforts pay off less than a minute after the car comes to a stop. Lexa’s cries become breathier, needier, until at last she lifts off the seat, her face frozen in a look of utter bliss as she empties everything she has down Clarke’s throat. Clarke swallows greedily, but Lexa is coming so fast and hard that she can’t drink it all down. Some inevitably leaks out from the seal of her lips, running down over her hands and Lexa’s knot, which is throbbing for want of an omega’s warm walls.

_ Shit, I need her to fuck me. _

For a split second, Clarke is tempted to pull back, unbuckle her seatbelt, and mount Lexa’s cock. There is a screaming emptiness in her belly, a hollowness that yearns for an alpha’s knot and seed, even though she’s already had both of those things less than half an hour ago. In fact, Lexa’s come is still leaking out of her, staining her already soaked panties.

But Clarke can’t bear to tear her mouth away. Lexa tastes too fucking good to give up. Her cock is pulsing too enticingly, and her grip is too firm, too desperate. She probably won’t let Clarke pull away for anything.

Clarke does her best to empty Lexa as quickly and efficiently as possible, not just because she craves it, but because the sooner Lexa finishes, the sooner they can get back on the road. Her apartment has a bed and privacy, two things the parking lot can’t provide. And yet, part of her  _ wants _ to be seen. Normal Clarke has boundaries, but Clarke-in-heat has none. She wants the whole world to know that, for this heat at least, she’s all Lexa’s. Other alphas might watch with jealousy, but they can’t have her. She’s already made her choice.

At last, Lexa’s release subsides. Her cock softens, although not completely, and she sags backwards in the driver’s seat, groaning with relief. “We could’ve crashed,” she mumbles, but Clarke looks up in time to catch a dopey grin on her face that belies her chastising tone.

_ It’s cute, _ she thinks,  _ how Lexa manages to be a badass alpha while also being adorable. _ That’s honestly what she wants in a mate. For all his faults, her ex-boyfriend Finn was attractive to her because he made her smile and laugh. She has a feeling Lexa will be able to do the same thing, possibly even better than Finn used to. At the very least, Lexa is already a better fuck.

“Are you okay to drive?” Clarke asks hopefully, licking her lips to catch a few more drops of Lexa’s come. Her chin is wet and sticky, but she can’t bear to wipe it on her sleeve.

To her surprise, Lexa pulls her in for a kiss, licking the rest away with a hungry tongue. When they pull apart, panting for breath, Lexa growls, “If you can leave my cock alone for two minutes, then yes.”

“No promises,” Clarke says, before claiming Lexa’s mouth again. She needs one more taste to sustain her before they get back on the road.

***

**Against The Wall**

It’s a minor miracle that they make it to Clarke’s apartment in one piece. By the time Lexa finds an empty space on the street, Clarke’s hand back on her cock, stroking urgently to keep it hard. Not that Lexa needs any help with that. Clarke’s pheromones have filled the car already, effectively hotboxing her with omega-scent. Aside from that, Clarke is beautiful. One of the most beautiful omegas Lexa has ever seen — and she knows it isn’t just because Clarke is in heat.

In lots of ways, Clarke reminds her of Costia…

Although Lexa feels a twinge of sadness, it’s followed by a wave of love and peace.  _ Costia would be happy for me, _ Lexa tells herself, and for the first time in a long time, she actually believes the voice in her head. A much-cherished memory resurfaces, one from almost a decade ago, when she and Costia shared their first heat together. They’d both been nineteen. She’d been too eager to get them to the bed, and she’d taken Costia right against the front door.

She wants to do that with Clarke. She wants to make Clarke feel desired and cherished. She wants to feel passion again. Maybe even love…

She’s getting ahead of herself. She’s been touch-starved for three years, and Clarke has awakened something powerful within her, something she’d almost forgotten she was capable of experiencing. But she’s feeling brave enough to see where this leads, so she removes Clarke’s hand from her cock, ignoring the omega’s whine as she stuffs it back in her pants and does up her zipper with fumbling fingers.

“Just until we get upstairs,” Lexa says, her voice breaking with desire. (She hopes she can actually make good on that promise.)

Clarke unbuckles and leaps out of her seat, bolting like a horse from the starting gate. Lexa exits the car too, almost forgetting to turn off the ignition and lock the doors. She remembers only at the last minute, and then she trots after Clarke, following the omega’s enticing scent through the front door and toward the stairs.

Her inner alpha urges her to  _ chase chase chase _ until she catches Clarke halfway between the first and second floors. She grabs the omega’s hips, kissing her wildly, devouring her mouth and plundering her body with greedy hands. Her palms are under Clarke’s shirt and she’s got her pinned against a wall before she realizes what’s happening.

_ Come on, Lexa, get control of yourself! _ But the protests in her head grow more and more distant as she unfastens Clarke’s pants, shoving her fingers past the elastic of the omega’s underwear to stroke her wetness. And there’s a  _ lot _ of wetness waiting for her. Lexa can smell Clarke’s arousal as well as her own scent, and the knowledge that Clarke is still full of her come drives her wild.

_ My omega. My pussy. Mine. _

Oh, shit. If she doesn’t get them to Clarke’s apartment now, she knows they’ll fuck right here in the stairwell.

Lexa yanks her fingers away despite Clarke’s mewls of disappointment, grasping the omega’s rear in both hands and lifting her up. Clarke’s legs wind around her waist, and Lexa carries her up the last half-flight of stairs, following her nose to the apartment she’s one hundred percent sure belongs to Clarke. The omega’s scent, older but still enticing, surrounds the place.

“This one?” she growls near Clarke’s lips.

Clarke nods. “Keys…”

Setting Clarke down so the omega can fumble for the key in her too-small pockets is equivalent to torture. Lexa finds her hands roaming Clarke’s body, tugging desperately at clothing, grinding against Clarke’s round ass and wishing there weren’t any barriers between them. But  _ finally, _ Clarke manages to get the door open, and they both stumble inside, tearing at each other like wild animals.

Lexa doesn’t remember much between entering the apartment and pinning Clarke to the wall. It’s a blur, and all she knows is that their clothing is off or pulled to one side, and her cock is rubbing against Clarke’s slippery heat, searching for the omega’s opening. It doesn’t take her long to find it. She jerks forward, grunting with a mixture of satisfaction and need as Clarke’s warm walls welcome her inside.

Fuck fuck  _ fuck _ she’s going to come. Her knot is already throbbing with fullness, trying to slip past Clarke’s tight entrance.

“Do it,” Clarke yelps, digging her heels into Lexa’s back and clawing at her shoulders. “Knot me  _ knotmeknotme!” _

Lexa is helpless to resist. She snarls and shoves forward, forcing Clarke’s tightness to spread and accept her. Clarke’s muscles flutter around her knot, squeezing impossibly tight, and Lexa is lost. She comes immediately, hips stuttering in an uneven rhythm, throbbing from base to tip as she empties everything she has into Clarke’s core.

It’s hot and slick and perfect. Lexa latches onto Clarke’s shoulder, digging her teeth into the omega’s sweet flesh — not hard enough to mark her permanently, but enough to assert her claim. Maybe someday, she and Clarke will become mates. Maybe not. But right now, it’s so good to  _ feel _ again: to feel passion and attraction and hope. It feels right to fuck Clarke raw, to slam her into the wall again and again with each thrust.

By the time her peak slows down, Clarke’s belly is swollen, rubbing enticingly against her abdomen. The physical proof that she’s filled her omega well makes Lexa’s inner alpha preen, and she releases Clarke’s shoulder at last, licking tenderly at the temporary bruise she’s left. For now, at least, Clarke is hers.

“Shit, you’re amazing,” Clarke gasps, glowing thanks to her smile and the light sheen of sweat on her skin. Her scent is an enticing mixture of satisfaction and further temptation. Lexa presses her nose the crook of Clarke’s throat, inhaling deeply.

“So are you.”

They kiss again, deep and slow time, passing the seconds until the tie fades. Once she’s sure her legs will work, Lexa scans the living room, looking for a comfortable place to nest. With some chagrin, she notices they’ve knocked a picture and a bowl of change off the table by the door. However, there is a couch a few feet away that looks comfortable enough.

She summons her strength and carries Clarke there, tipping her backwards onto the cushions and arranging them into a comfortable cuddle position. “Thanks,” Clarke sighs, lashes fluttering sleepily. It’s a facade, Lexa can tell. The omega’s satisfied sluggishness will only last a few minutes at most. Then, need will overwhelm the two of them again.

Lexa is more than fine with that.

***

**In Bed, From Behind**

“Yes Lexa yes-Lexa  _ yes-Lexa yes-yes-yes.” _

Clarke has lost count of the number of times she’s said Lexa’s name in the past twenty minutes. Lexa keeps fucking it out of her, and when Clarke does manage to keep from mumbling it or screaming it, wordless wails escape instead. She spills most of them into one of the pillows, but she can’t stop them. Lexa is hitting places inside her that no one else has ever reached, and Lexa is taking her faster and harder and  _ better _ than anyone else ever has.

But it’s not just how big Lexa’s dick is, or how perfect her strokes are. It’s the way Lexa mumbles, “Still okay?” in a ragged voice, checking in before she ups the speed. It’s the way she strokes aside Clarke’s sweaty hair to place a kiss at the nape of her neck. It’s the minute adjustments she makes, even while overwhelmed by passion, to make sure Clarke gets the most pleasurable angle possible. Lexa is hyper-aware of all her responses, and Clarke is immensely grateful for it.

All too soon, “ _ Yes, Lexa”  _ becomes  _ “Fuck, Lexa, coming,” _ and Clarke goes rigid as her — fourth orgasm? Fifth? Fuck’s sake, she can’t even remember — crashes over her. Fortunately, Lexa is there to help her through it. The alpha curls over her intuitively, offering plenty of skin contact to soothe the burn crawling across every inch of Clarke’s flesh.

_ How does she know exactly what to do? _ Clarke wonders, for what must be the hundredth time. The answer to that question is less important than the fact that Lexa can practically read her mind. It keeps her climax going for a long time, until Lexa comes a minute later, grunting softly and tightening her grip on Clarke’s hips.

For a while, the only sound in the room is their labored breathing.

“Am I going crazy?” Clarke asks, “or is this the best sex ever?”

Lexa doesn’t reply, and her scent becomes uneasy. Abruptly, Clarke realizes what she’s done: forced a comparison between herself and the mate Lexa has lost. Now that they’ve seen each other naked, the old mark on Lexa’s throat hasn’t escaped her notice, either. It takes her back to Lexa’s halting confession on the other side of the wall. Clarke had been able to hear the pain in the alpha’s voice even then.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Lexa says, stroking the curve of Clarke’s back with a gentle hand. She pumps out soothing pheromones, something omegas do far more often than alphas, but to Clarke’s surprise, Lexa is really good at it. Lexa’s smell, usually so sharp and demanding, has become soothing without losing any of its strength.

“Sorry,” Clarke repeats, but Lexa makes a shushing noise.

“Don’t be. I’m flattered you think sex with me is the best you’ve ever had. And sex with you is — well… there’s something special about it. Something I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing again.” She chokes up, swallowing loudly.

That’s more than enough to ease Clarke’s insecurities. Helping Lexa reclaim something special that was lost suddenly matters a lot more than being the best at anything. Instead of cringing with embarrassment, Clarke flushes with pride. She makes the effort to crane her neck back, and Lexa rewards her with a kiss on the lips, one that’s soft and sweet and full of feeling.

***

**In The Shower**

Clarke’s body is generous.

That is the best descriptor Lexa can summon as she runs her soapy palms along Clarke’s sides, learning and re-learning the omega’s shape. Clarke’s breasts are large and soft and sensitive, and Lexa loves kneading them with her slippery hands. Clarke’s hips are wide and curvy and squeezable, and they fit perfectly in Lexa’s grip. Clarke’s belly is round and smooth, shiny thanks to the trails of water that run down over it.

And, of course, Clarke’s lips are pouty and pink and eternally kissable. Both sets.

Lexa is currently occupied with the lower set. While she kneads Clarke’s rear — also generous, and in every way beautiful — she flicks her tongue contentedly over Clarke’s clit, enjoying the way the omega’s thighs twitch at even the lightest touches.

It’s difficult to keep those touches light, though, especially because Clarke’s sounds are also generous. This is a woman who isn’t afraid to show her enthusiasm. She isn’t afraid to moan, demand, or plead, and neither is she afraid to brace one foot on the side of the tub, spreading her legs wider as she grips the back of Lexa’s head.

That is one difference between Clarke and Costia. Clarke has a brash but insanely attractive confidence that Costia expressed in quieter ways.

Sometimes, it’s mildly jarring to note the differences between Clarke and Costia. When Lexa sucks Clarke’s clit lightly, the way she was accustomed to doing for many years, Clarke moans and bucks forward almost immediately, clearly needing more pressure. In those moments, Lexa feels a faint sadness before doubling her efforts. To her relief, it isn’t hard to reclaim joy instead.

Sometimes, though, noting the differences is exciting. Costia isn’t  _ constantly _ on her mind, and there are moments when Clarke demands all her attention and more. Besides, it’s strangely fun to figure out what makes Clarke tick. What makes her moan. What makes her weak in the knees. And, of course, what makes her come.

_ “Lexa-Lexa-Lexa…” _

Lexa doubts she’ll ever tire of hearing Clarke moan her name, and she dearly hopes she will have the opportunity to test that theory for a long time. As she thrusts her tongue lazily in and out of Clarke’s opening, stretching her jaw to the point of discomfort in order to reach as deep as possible, she allows her wistful mind to wander…

_ Nights spent cuddling on the couch, watching bad movies with a bowl of chips between them. _

_ An hour of the evening spent in the kitchen, chatting about their day as they cook a meal together. _

_ Flowers in a vase by the bed, whichever type Clarke likes best. _

_ Weekend hikes on one of the mountains outside the city. She doesn’t know if Clarke likes hiking, but maybe if she brings a picnic basket… _

By the time Clarke comes again, with groans that echo around the bathroom, Lexa is too far gone to stop. Her heart is running several reckless miles ahead of her brain. It’s frightening, how fast it’s going, but she can’t seem to stop it either…

Until water from the shower splashes in her face, running into her mouth and up her nose. Definitely not just Clarke’s come. She coughs, sputtering, unable to keep going even though she very much wants to. Luckily, Clarke is almost finished anyway. Instead, the omega positions her body to block the spray and asks, “Are you okay?” with a laugh in her voice.

After a bit more choking, Lexa laughs too. “Fine. Just…” She coughs again, trying to clear her lungs. “Just a little water down my throat.”

Clarke grins. “I should’ve stood on the other side of the shower.” She offers Lexa her hands, and Lexa takes them, climbing back to her feet.

“Oh, you mean like this?” Lexa pulls Clarke into her arms and spins them around, careful not to slip as she positions Clarke against the opposite wall. Her cock is already hard again, and Clarke is more than slippery enough to take the first several inches. She has a feeling her water bill for this month will be unusually high.

*******

**At The Table**

“I guess you liked the eggs, then?”

Clarke blinks in surprise, looking —  _ really _ looking — at her plate for the first time. It’s almost completely clean, and she’s currently mashing the prongs of her fork flat overtop the last flecks of scrambled egg and toast in order to devour every crumb.

“Sorry,” she says, a little sheepishly. “Guess I was hungry. They were great.”

A wry smirk plays around Lexa’s lips. “Makes sense. We had quite a workout.”

_ Damn right, _ Clarke thinks. Such an exhaustive one, in fact, that they’d been too tired to prepare all but the most basic of meals — hence breakfast at midnight. Lexa had made the eggs, and Clarke had supervised the toast while struggling to keep her eyes open. 

Now, however, her energy is somewhat restored. She feels less like napping and more like getting out of her chair and straddling Lexa’s lap. (She can’t help herself. The alpha looks surprisingly hot wearing one of her tank tops and flannel ‘art’ shirts, even if they are a little loose around the bust.)

Clarke sets her fork down, resisting the temptation to drum her fingers nervously on the tabletop. “So, you’re cool with everything that’s happened between us, right?”

“I am, definitely,” Lexa says. “What about you?”

“Relieved, to be honest. I’m so glad I don’t have to go through this alone. And you’re…” She mimes an explosion around her head with her hands, complete with accompanying sound effects. “Pssshw. Awesome. Fantastic. Mind blown.”

Lexa’s smirk becomes a smile that somehow manages to be both shy and proud at once. “I’m glad. I, um, haven’t had a lot of experience, so…”

“Oh?” Clarke asks, trying to straddle the line between curiosity and respectful distance. Even though Lexa has been open with her,  _ very _ open, she doesn’t want to pry. Raven’s always telling her she has a bad habit of doing that.

“Costia was my only partner before now. We met young.”

Clarke’s eyes widen.  _ Costia. So that’s her name. And… so that means I’m the second person Lexa’s ever fucked? Shit, I feel like a bit of a slut now. Although we did meet through a glory hole, so she’s got no room to judge. _

Somehow, Clarke doubts Lexa would have judged her anyway, no matter what.

“Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah…” Lexa chews her lip, glancing down at the table. Then, she seems to come to a decision, raising her eyes to meets Clarke’s once more. “We were only seventeen. She was the most beautiful omega I’d ever seen, and I fell in love with her at first sight.”

Lexa laughs, a small and broken sound, and when Clarke notes how the alpha’s green eyes go misty with the memory, she almost tears up too.

“I barely talked to her, so she thought I was stuck-up. But she became friends with my cousin, and eventually, she figured out the truth.”

Clarke swallows around her tongue, unsure what to say… and then, suddenly, she knows. “It’s been a few years since she died, hasn’t it?”

Lexa nods. “Yes. How did you—”

“Because you’re sad, but you’re smiling. You’ve had enough time to get over the anger. At least, most of it.”

“You’ve lost someone too, haven’t you?” Lexa reaches across the table, placing her hand on top of Clarke’s. “You can tell me, if you want.”

It’s the warmth of her palm that gives Clarke the courage to say, “My dad. Cancer.”

“Car accident.”

They’re silent for a while, but it’s a silence of understanding rather than embarrassment or discomfort.

“It gets better,” Clarke says. “Your memories don’t stay sad forever. They become a sort of… happy-sad instead. And it’s tough, but good. You know?”

Lexa inhales deeply, holding the air for a long moment before blowing it out. “Yes. I know.” She laughs again, and this time, it doesn’t sound so hoarse. “Costia would like you, I think.”

“Why?”

“Because you were nice to me, even when it was just through a wall. And, well…” Lexa gestures around the kitchen, at the pictures hanging on the walls. “You made all these, didn’t you? They’ve got a distinct style.” Once more, she appears to drift back in time. “Costia was a very creative person. A poet.”

“Maybe you’ll share some of her poems with me someday,” Clarke suggests, as gently as possible. “Only if you want to.”

Lexa sighs, not unhappily. “I’d like that.”

“I’m actually an artist,” Clarke offers after a moment. “Well, I’m trying to be. I’m back at school for another bachelor’s, in visual art. I was a paramedic before, but I got burnt out after my Dad died. Work reminded me too much of him.” It’s somewhat embarrassing for her to admit her failure, although, logically, she knows it isn’t one.

Lexa doesn’t appear to consider it a failure, either. “You needed to heal from the loss and express yourself. Art can be good for both those things.” She smiles from across the table. “Saving lives is very important, but art can make those lives joyful. You’re still contributing something meaningful to the world.”

Clarke’s heart swells. Although her friends understand, her mother doesn’t, and the extra validation is appreciated. “Thanks. That means a lot.” Suddenly, she’s struck with the urge to give Lexa a hug, and so she does, getting up from her seat and circling the table. Lexa stands too, and they fall into an embrace, the most natural one Clarke has ever felt. Lexa’s arms are strong, considering how lean they are, but also incredibly warm and comforting.

“Thank you,” Lexa whispers into Clarke’s hair. “For listening to me. And talking to me.”

A shudder races down Clarke’s spine. Now that they’re touching again, she’s near enough to soak in Lexa’s scent at close range, and a twinge of desire tugs at her abdomen. Her sleepiness and hunger are forgotten in favor of another base need, and she licks her lips, wetting them in hopes of a kiss.

Before she can ask, Lexa’s mouth claims hers. The pace starts slow, but quickly speeds up, and before Clarke realizes what’s happening, her ass is perched on the edge of the table and Lexa is pulling her nightshirt up and over her head. Clarke makes quick work of Lexa’s borrowed flannel as well, but stripping it off is more difficult than it should be, especially since the bulge of Lexa’s cock is already rubbing against her inner thigh.

“Want you again,” Lexa growls, nipping lightly at the point of her chin.

“Good,” Clarke gasps, “because I want you too.”

*******

**_On_ ** **The Table**

Clarke’s nipples have to be the prettiest shade of pink Lexa has ever seen. As she sucks them into stiff peaks, switching from one to the other, she can’t help but admire them. The color is so beautiful, so full of life. Maybe it’s stupid, but it reminds her a bit of Clarke’s paintings. The ones that aren’t charcoal are mostly done in pastel.

Clarke herself reminds Lexa of an oil painting. Maybe it’s the sheen of sweat on her skin, a reflective gleam that makes Lexa’s mouth water. She swipes her tongue up along Clarke’s sternum, searching for a taste of salt while switching nipples yet again, but it’s not enough. She’s still hungry.

“Can’t get enough of you,” she huffs, biting the top of Clarke’s breast. Some savage part of her longs to leave bruises on Clarke’s skin, in addition to the ones she can already see forming. They marks are still red now, but in another day, they’ll be a lovely shade of purple.

Another, softer part of her has no need to leave bruises. She wants Clarke to be hers, but she also wants to be Clarke’s. She wants to kneel at Clarke’s feet and kiss her thighs and promise her anything and everything in the world.

Fortunately, there’s only one thing Clarke seems to want at this particular moment: “Inside, please?”

That’s a request both parts of Lexa are more than happy to fulfill. She pulls down the fresh pair of underwear Clarke has loaned her and takes her cock in one hand, spreading Clarke’s knees with the other. She’s already hard and aching, but relief is only a few inches away. Thankfully, Clarke has decided to forego underwear entirely.

A choked whimper cracks in Lexa’s throat as her cockhead touches Clarke’s heat. No matter how many times she’s done this over the past… has it been almost a day already? She’s lost track of time. Anyway, she can’t get used to how good it feels. She doesn’t want to get used to how good it feels. She wants it to stay this special, this sweet, forever. Some part of her honestly believes it will.

As she slides inside, Lexa tries to pause and savor the moment. Until now, she honestly hadn’t believed she could ever feel something this good again. But good, she’s discovering, is addictive — as is Clarke. Soon, she’s thrusting faster than she means to, holding onto Clarke’s hips so she can pump as deep as possible.

“Lexa…”

Lexa loves the way Clarke says her name, loves how the omega doesn’t hold anything back…

_ I think I could love her someday. _

The thought isn’t as frightening as it should be. Over the past few weeks, and especially during the past day, it’s become almost familiar. Lexa is getting used to it, and it feels right, like comfort food or a favorite hoodie. In an instant, her life has changed, and she feels as though she’s found her way back home.

“Lexaaaa,” Clarke moans again, teasing greedy fingers through Lexa’s hair to regain her attention. “Are you with me?”

A smile breaks across Lexa’s face. “Yes. I’m with you, Clarke.”

_ There’s no one else I want to be with right now. _

She resumes thrusting, allowing their bodies to set the right rhythm naturally. It only takes them a few seconds to find it, and when they do, they both sigh as one. Clarke tips her head back, eyes fluttering closed, and Lexa kisses up from her breasts to suck at her collarbone, which is already dotted with love bites.

Clarke doesn’t mind when Lexa latches on again to leave another. In fact, she grips the back of Lexa’s head to encourage it. The omega’s heat has taken hold, and once more, Lexa is overwhelmed with the urge to break skin. To bite. To mate and claim.

_ Someday. _

She satisfies the need as best she can by mouthing Clarke’s shoulder and thrusting harder. Clarke’s muscles ripple around her, and Lexa can tell from the omega’s soft gasp that she’s coming yet again — a small orgasm, one that seems to be building toward something bigger. The slick shuddering of Clarke’s walls is enough, however, to make the base of Lexa’s shaft swell with the start of a knot.

Getting it in is a process. Although Clarke is wet and open, she’s still an incredibly tight fit. A low snarl escapes from between Lexa’s teeth as she grinds into Clarke’s entrance, urging the omega to stretch for her. With one more push, and a breathless, “Yes!” from Clarke, the resistance finally gives, and Lexa melts in Clarke’s arms as her knot pops inside.

Lexa comes the moment Clarke’s walls wrap around her. She knows she should be embarrassed, but for some reason, she isn’t. It feels so right to fill Clarke, to flood the omega —  _ her _ omega — with come. It feels especially right because Clarke’s small orgasm spikes into a big one, heavy pulses that milk even sharper spurts from Lexa’s cock.

“Love this,” Clarke whimpers, nuzzling needily at her throat. “Love…”

_ Love. _

It’s too soon, Lexa knows, but…  _ It’s not too soon to hope.  _

“Me too,” she says, scattering kisses over the most recent set of teeth marks she’s left in Clarke’s flesh. “Me too.”

That keeps them going for a while, until they’re too exhausted to continue. Clarke slumps against her, and Lexa has to brace one hand on the table to stay upright. She wishes she wasn’t standing, but she doesn’t have the energy to move. It takes a full minute for her to recover enough to sit back in the nearest chair and bring Clarke with her.

One of the best things about knotting face to face is that it makes kissing afterwards easier. As much as Lexa enjoys fucking Clarke from behind, it’s also really, really nice to wait out the tie this way, lips lingering, tongues brushing, murmuring secrets into each other’s mouths.

“I think you may have changed my life today,” Lexa confesses, gazing into Clarke’s beautiful blue eyes and losing herself within them.

Clarke presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I think you may have changed mine, too.”

A rumble vibrates against Lexa’s chest, and she realizes Clarke is purring. It’s not quite like Costia’s purr, but it’s warm and soothing and uniquely  _ Clarke, _ and it makes her inexplicably happy. She starts up a purr of her own, letting the rhythm of her breathing match Clarke’s.

Deep within her heart, the hope of  _ someday _ hasn’t merely taken root. It’s already started to sprout.


End file.
